Welcome zephyrs and belated end-of-week notes pt. I

Like all good things, this begins at the beginning. Thursday night's fun began under the auspices of trolling the Magic City's dynamic Downtown area for slow turns and broads. We've become predictable through deal-chasing and have always tackled SoHo's 2-4-1 on these nights, but choosing to liven things up and since we had actually started the night close to an hour earlier than the previous week, we decided to check out the action at Studio A and their Plastik Fantastik party... Beer prices were good and the ladies were looking all indie-rock-like and the dudes looked like ladies sometimes but the overall vibe was good. I bumped (as mentioned in an earlier, quickie post) into my old pal Cristy C. Road and a couple of other peeps and was hanging out with this nice girl from New Orleans when all of a sudden I was overcome with the need to throw down some serious merengue action... making my way to the DJ booth I figured if this "emo-hairdoed" feller's gonna prove his mettle to me right now, he's gonna drop some Wilfrido Vargas or Juan Luis Guerra y 440 on everybody's ass right now and this shit's gonna get a helluva lot sweatier!
Well, as expected, it didn't go as planned and the DJ actually prompted the bouncer to flash me with some kind of powerful, ear-mounted flashlight right in my fucking eyes and I almost lost my teetering balance and my drink. Not nice Mr. Dolphin Splash do. Defeated, I headed on back to the viper room to continue my bark n' howl up the wrong tree. At some point, Jesse and I received intel on the situation over at SoHo and how there was no situation cuz there was nothing going on and not being a pair of slow turners who like getting shell shocked with stadium quality lighting two weeks in a row, we decided to keep it within confines of the Studio and ole Jess got to meet n' greet with a very nice looking young lady from Quebec. Ah... Quebecua!
More to follow at some point, but up above is the Three Headed Punk Rock monster I promised in the teaser. Nikki on left, a heftier version of yours truly middling-it-up, and Cristy on the right, spring evening in South Miami, outside of 5922 (when it was a punk club)... cold suds.